Every so often, any normal person experiences a "What the Fuck" moment. Pending on their mood at the time of the occasion, sometimes it is taken in laugher, confusion and sometimes disgust. I am not claiming that these occurrences happen to me on a steady basis, however when they do, they always make for a great story.
Indoor Waterfall
My ex and I had hit the point on our relationship where going out was non-existent. Him, being an unemployed college grad living with his parents, and myself being a professional waitress also living with my parents, a big night out for us consisted of Pizza and TV. At times, when we would venture out it would turn in to me dating myself, in which I would pick up the tab for both of us, since I was the only one at the time with any kind of income. Out of the blue and the kindness of his heart, my ex decided that he wanted to do something special for me and planned an entire day of fun filled events. Confused because he was not really one to be spontaneous, I was ecstatic and looking forward to it.
At the time, we were living an hour away from each other, so when I was walking out the door to make the pilgrimage to his house my mom (who thinks she is a self made weather reporter), warned me to be careful because there were some storms coming in to the area. Being that my mom's weather reporting skills reflect those of "The Girl Who Cried Wolf," I assured her I would be safe and got in the car to being my journey. 1/4 tank of gas, 1 hour and $1.50 in turnpike tolls I had arrived. Upon my arrival, my ex was very excited and proud of the day's events that he had planned. He wouldn't give me any details, so we proceeded to hop in his car and go to the first location.
We started on Mount Washington. It was a sunny, spring day. Some people feel that Mount Washington's look out points are romantic, spiritual and even picturesque. This was about my 100th trip to it, however I didn't want my ex to know that in fear that he would be discouraged. As we were basking in the city's view, I looked to my left to notice what appeared to be the apocalypse. The sky was turning from a pale blue to a black death color which happened to be heading our way. I pointed this out to him, and which he said to me "Well this may ruin our next stop, South Side Works." I had never been to South Side Works, nor really didn't see what was so special about it, but like any good girlfriend I didn't question, I just got in the car and tried to show some sort of excitement for his planning.
While several blocks away, a torrential downpour started. Lightning, wind and rain that was shaking the car. It was what I had imagined experiencing a hurricane may be like and we are stuck right in the middle of it. We proceeded to find shelter in a parking garage. Sitting in the car for 20 minutes, with the rain not letting up in sight, my ex started getting antsy and made the executive decision to grab 2 umbrellas and proceeded to walk to the nearest store until the rain died down. During our walk of about 1000 feet, a gust of wind managed to flip his umbrella inside out, causing him to have no shelter from the rain. I began laughing at the situation and his stubbornness even though my umbrella was working perfectly fine yet the rain was too much and I too was getting wet. My ex didn't find it to funny, nor did he really find me funny...Probably a key factor as to why it didn't work amongst other things. We arrived at a store called the Z Gallery. There were several people parked at the door watching this storm in amazement as if they were waiting for an arc to pull up. The wind was blowing so strong that a nearby stop sign was standing at a 45 degree angle.
Cold, wet and irritated because I had looked extremely cute prior to getting rained on, I had never been to Z Gallery before so rather than being a negative Nancy, I decided to walk around and see what the store had. After looking at the over-priced art decoish items that the store had stocked, out of the corner of my eye I had noticed glassware. Not only was it glassware, but it was leopard painted glassware. My curiosity got the best of me. With my ex not far behind and hating every minute of this impromptu shopping experience, I had arrived in front of the glassware. The leopard martini glasses sparkled in the fluorescent light of the store. I was so excited yet nervous to see what ridiculous amount of money these would set me back, and at that moment that's when fate intervened.
As I grabbed the glass to flip it upside down I heard a sound that sounded like what I imagine a bomb sounds like, following by the sound of rushing water. Unknown to me, the water line that supports not only Z Gallery but the apartments above it had managed to burst due to the rain pressure, and I, alone was standing at ground zero. The next thing I know, I get nailed with the newly created waterfall from the ceiling. I stood there for a minute, confused as to what had just happened while the water continued to bounce off of my head. The dumbfounded look on my face caused my ex (who was standing about 20 feet away) to start laughing uncontrollably. Still stunned, out of nowhere like a Baywatch episode, one of the employees grabs me and pulls me out of the line of fire. At this point, it had finally hit me what had just happened. My ex came running over and we proceeded to laugh hysterically until we both had tears running down our faces. Soaked to the bone, and extremely angry because the store would not let me keep the sweet leopard fleece blanket that was given to me to help me warm up. They proceeded to take down our names. We ended up getting $250 dollars cash and $250 in store credit. I was very upset to find out that the geriatric parade that was parked in front of the door, that of which were untouched by the water, decided to file a class action lawsuit against Z Gallery claiming "emotional distress." Z Gallery went out of business shortly after, ironically as did our relationship.
Neighbor Next Door
After living with Lam for a year, we decided to part ways and get places of our own. Me being newly single and her starting to date a guy that would later turn out to be her husband, we broke up amicably and I found a cute little 1 bedroom apartment via Craigslist. I had learned from Lam and I's living experience that all because you live in an apartment complex with other people, it is not like an episode of Friends where you become social with your neighbors and hang out all the time. The apartment had 5 units in it, yet I was hopeful that there maybe someone either close to my age or someone even remotely cool that lived there so that I could have at least one 3's company moment with. My fantasy was crushed when I learned that it was not a college party house but in fact a small replica of "It's a Small World." Next door lived an African American women and her son, upstairs was an Asian and a Jew, and on the third floor were 3 20something excommunicated soritutes. Aside of the occasional "Hello, How Are You," there were no dinner parties, shopping buddies or potential boyfriends. I kept to myself and proceeded doing my own thing. I had hit a drought in the boy department, and the only guys that were staying at the time were friends that typically needed a place to crash when they were drunk. I didn't mind, I enjoyed the company yet I would go to bed alone every night.
One morning after a night of heavy drinking, I was in a domesticated mood and decided to do my laundry. Normally, I unload it on my mom when I go to visit, but this day I wanted to be a grown up. Still reeking of last night's vodka, and dressed in my Spongebob SquarePants pjs, make up that resembled the lost member of Kiss, and worst of all wearing my glasses, I proceeded downstairs to begin my chore. As I hit the last step and rounded the corner, I was greeted by an African American male, in his late 20's who had been finishing up his laundry. Assuming it was my neighbors son, I smiled and politely introduced myself as the neighbor next door. What started out as harmless conversation turned quickly in to him hitting on me. It started with "Can I just say you are one of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen?" As I stood there dumbfounded in my Spongebob PJs, instinctively I lied and made mention that my boyfriend thought so too, hoping this would end any further awkwardness. In any other situation, I would make a smart ass comment and walk away, however my hands were tied because this guy was my neighbor and I didn't want things to be weird. He backed off a little and then proceeded upstairs. No more than 3 minutes later he comes walking down the steps again, in which appeared as if he regrouped himself for round 2. Again, he starts laying it on think calling me beautiful, my boyfriends lucky and bla bla bla. Then he starts questioning me about my imaginary boyfriend, with the hopes of finding out if there was trouble in paradise. Like always, I manage to make up an entire relationship in a snap. Not satisfied that I am imaginary happy, he hits me with a stunner. "Listen girl, I've seen your boyfriend, and I'm not sure if you know this or not but my bedroom is right below yours. From the sounds that I hear, he's not doing you like I can." At that point it dawned on me how thin the walls in this apartment are. I don't know what was worse, the fact that he thought a male friend of mine was my boyfriend, or the fact that he could hear me masturbating every night.
Two weeks later I am getting ready to go to my friend Ashely's toga party when there is a knock on my door. It's him. Knowing I'm home because my TV is on, I answer the door. Holding a 6 pack in his hand, he proceeded to ask me if I would care to join him for "some brew" and "to smoke some bud." Where I was relieved to know that if I ever got the urge to smoke, all I had to do was go next door which would be super convenient, however, luckily I had a legitimate excuse. I politely told him no, and he presents me with his business card, inviting me to the restaurant that he works at assuring me if I stop in he will "hook me up." Fearful that a batch of hash brownies would show up on my door step upon our next encounter, I literally acted like a hostage rescue agent for the next few months. I would park on the street (his apartment overlooked our parking area), I would literally run in to my apartment, I even would watch tv on mute when I knew he was home.
My plan had seemed to work, because I hadn't seen him in a few months. A guy I had never seen before kept coming out of my neighbor's apartment and was super friendly. Assuming her son moved out, one day I caught her outside to non chilantly ask her if he would ever be coming back (incase I needed to prepare for round 2). She then looks at me, laughing and says: "Nah girlfriend, that wasn't my son, that was my dead beat boyfriend. I kicked his ass to the curb 3 months ago because I found out he was creepin' on me with some bitch on Penn Ave." I never told her my encounters with him, the new guy she was with seemed to make her happy and there was no need bringing up the past. Shortly thereafter, she moved out and newlyweds moved in. Ironically, the first night they moved in is when I finally understood how truly thin the walls are...Now instead of having an audience, I am the audience, and judging from what I hear, I'd say he's "doing her right." It also gave me perceptive on marriage. They used to do it like rabbits, now I barely hear anything. I'm not sure if it is because when you get married, you don't have sex as much, or I'm wondering if it's because of the standing ovation I gave them one night.
Keepin it Real -
Shelby
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